


heaven is a place on earth ( with you ).

by archangelcore



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, M/M, Misunderstandings, Surprise Ending, and bitch me too the fuck, and he's also a Fleeting Gay tm, i am starting to realize everyone seems a little in love with geonhak in this, omg that's a tag?, youngjo is geonhak's gay awakening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28965579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archangelcore/pseuds/archangelcore
Summary: Geonhak realizes a lot of things- too many things- in one night.For one, everyone is in love with Kim Youngjo. That was noticeable, conceivable, doable.More difficultly, he's one of the suckers who ever dared to in the first place.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	heaven is a place on earth ( with you ).

**Author's Note:**

> so i was watching that One episode of black mirror and Well, Inspo!

* * *

There are many things that get under Geonhak's skin. 

Depending on his day and mood, it could be little things, like Seoho forgetting to set the rug down when he showers or Dongju sinking his teeth into a particularly sore muscle or Keonhee getting him some bitter coffee instead of hot chocolate. Other days, it was the bigger things, like some random asshole talking shit to his girlfriend outside the grocery store so Geonhak has to scare him with a tone lower than necessary to ensure he doesn't treat a woman like that or a client being more whiny than usual, which did nothing to his endless patience unless they started getting nit-picky about their own form and Geonhak's normal routine. Even then, he could do with all of those. 

What he couldn't do, however, is take up Dongju's insistence on going to some club he liked in some shady part of town.

"Why not!" He had whined, shrilly, hanging off of Geonhak's arm like he was some fancy decoration. He might as well be; he had his hair- straight and silky and blonde- pulled back into a thin black ribbon. Dongju's whole get-up was terribly overdone, in Geonhak's honest opinion. He dressed well, with glitter and sequins into a nice shirt and eyeshadow done perfectly, but it was just too much knowing that Dongju was trying to get him to go to the same place. Geonhak owned some really nice sweaters, but something told him that it wouldn't be fitting to occasion. Just the thought of being a sore spot in a crowd had a bitter feeling tinging the back of his throat.

"Because you know I don't like partying," Geonhak pointed out, steadily, dragging Dongju all the way to the apartment's small kitchen, "I hate drinking-"

"You don't have to drink."

"I don't do well in crowds," Geonhak said instead, opening the fridge and looking for his tall bottle of water, "I hate talking with people I don't have to talk to- Seoho, did you take my water bottle?!"

"Nooo," Seoho's voice drawled from the living room, where he was curled up on, reading some new book he got intently. Geonhak huffed, taking his hidden backup instead after shifting containers and groceries for a few minutes. Dongju huffed, tugging at the sleeve of his arm irritatingly. 

"I think it would do good for you, personally." He declared, like he knew everything, which he might as well with his attitude, "You don't get out much, anyways. I mean- you see the same poor saps as a personal trainer, but that's as far as you go. It's not like you even _try_ to make use of the muscles you have." Dongju groped at Geonhak's biceps for emphasis, huffing when the older man quirked an eyebrow and shrugged him off. "I'm just saying! It's kind of depressing watching you stay at home, day in and day out."

"Well, don't let me ruin your fun." Geonhak rolled his eyes, turning to pop open the cap. He never understood why Dongju had been so obsessed with his personal life. It's not like he was unhappy; he was constantly busy, constantly doing things. His job paid well, kept him busy on the weekdays. On Saturdays he volunteered to work with the kids at the local hospital and Sundays he took for personal days. It may seem like a routine, but each day was truly different, and he never failed to come home with a story that had Seoho on the ground wheezing. 

"You could have fun with _me_." Dongju persisted, his mopey pout deepening his well-done face, "If you really tried, you could."

"I'm sure of it." Geonhak said, not truly believing his words, "I'm sure it's just our generation gap talking. You go smoke the devil's lettuce and I'll-" He cut off with a chuckle when Dongju scoffed and slapped his chest, annoyed. Dongju, being three years Geonhak's junior, already acted younger than he should. Geonhak was a bit worried about his frolicking through the nightlife, but after coffee with Dongmyeong on one of his more wired Sundays, he had learned that Dongju was more than safe. He kept his boundaries known and got snappy with anyone who pushed them. He never went alone, either- always had this group of people Geonhak didn't know to keep him safe. It made him wary, but Dongju was a grown-up now, no longer the snot-nosed kid he saw screaming at his twin in their sandbox from the comfort of his own backyard. Geonhak still had to hold Dongju's hair back when he randomly threw up after a night of too much fun, but they were just more mature this time around. At least...in Geonhak's case, he was.

"My roommate, Hwanwoong, is coming with me." Dongju turned his chin up, like he made a point. Like that made a difference.

"Okay, so?" Geonhak only recalled meeting the tiny terror known as Yeo Hwanwoong a handful of times. He was a popular person on Dongju's campus, apparently, not like that made any change in Geonhak's perception. The last time he saw Hwanwoong was when he dropped Dongju off after getting ramen with him, and even then, it had been a blur of Hwanwoong crying over his scalp burning after a dye-job gone wrong. He had screeched at Dongju to not let his 'caveman friend' see what he was doing, so without mercy or explanation, Geonhak had gotten a face full of their dorm door before he was shooed away altogether. That was fine with him- colleges weren't really his scene, anyways.

"Hwanwoong's around your age." Dongju rose his eyebrows, expectantly. Geonhak held his gaze for a good twenty seconds before raising his own, slowly.

"So?"

"Agh, I thought it'd convince you!" Dongju was gradually losing his temper and, honestly, it was the funniest thing Geonhak's seen all day. His shift hadn't been as exciting as he'd hope for a Friday night and he'd much rather watch Dongju lose his mind over this than actually succumbing and going with him anywhere.

"I'd go if Seoho goes."

"Not fair! You know he's not moving from the couch!" Dongju stomped his foot, letting out an exaggerated grumble. Seoho broke his silence, glancing up over the edge of his book with minor interest in the argument playing out before him. Usually, he'd join in where he felt fit, but he must be tired from his shift at the cafe. They've been giving him longer and longer shifts, lately. 

"Normally I'd go, but I'm exhausted." Seoho reasoned, and it was just like him to play devil's advocate when he wasn't interested in choosing sides at the moment, "So, you two go have fun. Stir a little drama, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"When you're drunk, you'd do just about anything." Dongju deadpanned and for once, Geonhak agreed, levelling Seoho with a dead stare. Seoho let out a shrill giggle at that, hand habitually raising to cover his mouth as his eyes bunched up into mirthful little crescents.

"That's why I said it!" He chirped, happily.

"Anyways," Dongju reared his ugly insistence back to Geonhak. It's not like Geonhak was expecting him to forget, first of all, but he could use some of that rare wishing-on-a-star kind of luck when it came to this situation. "You're coming to the club with me."

"Are you deaf or just ignoring what I say?" Geonhak retorted, "I'm not going."

Dongju smiled, which meant nothing good in the way it was angled.

...Sure enough, for someone who was so adamant against going, someone tell him how he was squeezed between a laughing Dongju and an annoyed Hwanwoong, who reached around him to pull at Dongju's pierced ears.

Geonhak sighed, witheringly, clutching the glass of water he argued on getting instead of some gross liquor that would only serve to burn his throat and put him in a worse mood than he's already in. He already stunk of too much cologne and felt the makeup weigh heavy on his face. Of course, he had to dress up a _little_ bit. No one accompanied Son Dongju anywhere without meeting his level in fashion. Geonhak could deal with the black button-up Dongju insisted he wore because it really highlighted his large biceps and the width of his shoulders and the slope of his chest. Geonhak could agree there; he liked when attention was brought to his body, even if it made him shyer than all hell, because he had worked hard on building it up to where it currently was. So, it wasn't hard to wiggle him into skin-tight pants of the same dark fabric, because it made his thighs look powerful. A pair of combat boots and Dongju messing with his messy black hair later and Geonhak found himself being slicked with gloss and pricked with eyeshadow.

"It's light," Dongju had insisted as he gripped him by the chin, digging his fingers into his skin roughly to hold him still, "It'll almost look natural, stop moving!"

Geonhak, after taking a glance in the mirror, hated that he didn't hate the look. It looked nice, if not a bit gothic, and suited him well. Dongju really did know what to go for when it came to dressing him up.

"Geonhak-hyung looks nice for once," Hwanwoong said, a bit tipsy, over the music that rattled their skulls and burst their eardrops relentlessly. Geonhak made a low noise of offense, but he doubted it was even picked up with all the noise. "You should dress him for his dates. Maybe he'd get a call back."

This made Geonhak's eyebrow twitch, but he tried his best not to take it personal. Hwanwoong didn't know him well and it wasn't a secret among their friend circle that he was a recluse when it came to dating. He hadn't had a proper girlfriend since high school and it's not like he wanted one. He threw every excuse under the sun: he was busy, he wasn't interested, he wasn't ready for a relationship. It held people's curiosity over for so long before they wanted something new. Geonhak didn't understand why dating had to be everything. Sure, seeing happy couples warmed his heart, but it's not like he had that pull for himself. He was still young, he had time to figure out what he wanted in life and who he wanted to spend that time with. There were moments where he'd see a sweet video on Twitter between two lovers and want something like that, too, but it was nothing but a fever he had to pat down before he got himself in trouble. There were issues he was concerned of when it came to giving his everything to someone. What if he got boring and they lost interest when his was in full flame? The aspect of infidelity? The fear of not being good enough? Insecurity upon insecurity piled high into a mountain, and he knew better than to act on a fleeting crush and subject them to the torture of dealing with him when he wasn't ready. It was for both his preservation and theirs, so why was that a crime when he was taking a highroad instead of taking the messy, more complicated route that would end badly?

"He doesn't go on dates!" Dongju said over a softer song, making Hwanwoong giggle like it was the most suspicious thing he's heard all night, "I don't know why- he has people practically falling over him, all the fucking tiiime."

Geonhak scowled at this, "Don't mock me when I agreed to go with you."

"We're not mocking," Dongju drawled, like it was obvious, "I'm being serious. Do you not hear what the people on campus say when they see you wandering about?"

"I doubt they say much," Geonhak said, defiantly.

"They _say_ that you're so smokin'." Hwanwoong offered, draping one arm over Geonhak's wide shoulders and leaning heavily over him. Any more and he'll tumble right to the filthy floor, covered in God knows what. "So kind, with a great smile, and one girl even says you chased after her runnin' pup for her."

Geonhak couldn't tell if his cheeks were coloring by his growing shyness or the heat that crept along the back of his neck. "You're drunk."

"Just a bit," Dongju agreed, chirping happily as he rose his glass to his mouth. It smelt like candy and Geonhak wasn't sure if that was possible. Maybe it was Dongju's perfume, he reasoned. "That doesn't change what they say."

"I don't even go to your school," Geonhak turned his face as though that'd shake off the conversation, "There shouldn't be anything even spoken about."

"Now _you're_ the delusional one." Dongju's grin was angled, sharkish, and Geonhak knew he was in deep waters then. "Come on. They see you when you look around like a lost puppy for us."

"'Cause you hide and I have to seek." Geonhak mumbled around a borderline pout, "Come on, stop that."

"It hardly changes things." Hwanwoong's eyebrow rose, and it shouldn't look as goofy as he did. When tipsy, his expressions were a bit offbeat, a failed replica of what he was trying to achieve. 

"Right." Geonhak settled, because settling is all he can do in the moment.

"You should go enjoy yourself, big guy." Dongju said over the noise, gradually rising in sound and rhythm once more, "Don't be boring tonight."

Normally, he'd agree for the sake of appeasing Dongju, but wording it like that rubbed him the wrong way. Geonhak's stomach churned.

"Okay." He said, instead, intent on just gluing himself to the bar.

That was until he was weaving his way through the crowd, Hwanwoong's smaller hand latched around his wrist. Tugging, pulling through the crowd of faceless bodies feeling themselves and other people to the mainstream song playing. This close to the mass, Geonhak's head rang with the noise. He wasn't in a good enough mood to think about it- to consider pulling himself close to avoid the brush of people against his own body. The guys dance like frenzied beasts, trying to show themselves off in a good enough way to catch the attention of lonely women. They weren't any better. Geonhak knew what he was to them: a big guy with sizable biceps and a wide back. A guy with a pretty enough face- plush lips that are bitable and dark hair that frames his face just right. He didn't like to think about it, but he'd have to be a liar then. He knew Dongju dressed him up with the intent of catching some vulture, and that was more than likely if he had the heart or effort for it. As he moved through the crowd, it parted for him like he was some deity. Gazes hot and teeth catching lips- Geonhak knew he could probably hook someone if he put some effort. A fresh smile and a heavy gaze does wonders for some, even unintentionally. 

He ducked his head low and kept moving on, even when Hwanwoong got distracted and lost his hold, disappearing in the crowd. Geonhak slowed to a stop then, standing lost and puzzled in the vibrating sea of people. Hwanwoong was tiny enough to escape, and in a crowd like this, his wild pink hair would only blend in. So, he stood, and he drank in the people moving in flimsy waves around him.

Geonhak knew he was a good dancer. He knew he could put on some moves and lose himself to the beat fluidly. But this was hardly a place for a talent show, hardly a place to take dancing seriously. These people were drunk on lust and high off of adrenaline; they didn't care about appearance or dancing good, they only cared about having a good time either by their lonesome or with temporary company. Geonhak understood. In some way, he did. He could understand being desperately lonely, but even on his worst days, he doesn't think he'd find himself in a place like this. The walls were littered with all sorts of neon scroll and caving in. Maybe it was the slight push and shove of the sea as it moved or maybe he was imagining things. He's not drunk enough to deal with this, but then again, he's not drunk at all.

Maybe he stood still too long. Maybe he was beginning to subconsciously sway to the song. He wasn't sure which came first, but he knew that his back was just that much warmer and a pair of hands gripped his hips. Did he look inviting? Usually he had such a cool exterior about him that it didn't matter if he was thinking of kittens and rainbows, he would always look stone cold and tough. Then again, the person wasn't looking at his face. They probably saw how good his thighs looked in those pants and went with the unknown. Geonhak couldn't blame him. Even he thought Dongju chose well.

He tensed as soon as the fingers squeezed his side, inhaling sharply as he tried to size up the person behind him. It was difficult and easy all at once- easy in the way the person pulled him back against a solid chest, just as big as his, if not more sturdy. A man, obviously, who was just as wide, just as strong, maybe. Geonhak's head swam with makeshift visuals and assumptions, before he pushed himself away from the touchy stranger, turning to look over his shoulder to get a glimpse of his face. His breath hitched and he cursed himself inwardly at not being prepared at all.

The man was undoubtedly pretty. Beautiful in a cocky way- his smile spoke of smug knowingness and his intense gaze spoke curiosities and wonders. _Like what you see?_ Went unspoken, but it was written all over his pretty lips, the gentle curve of his cheeks. He was fair, his hair falling a bit too long over his blackened eyes, a bucket had covering what's probably the mess of it. His t-shirt too baggy and pants a bit ripped at the knees, he both looked like he was in the right and wrong scene. He didn't fit in tune with Geonhak, which was a surprisingly bitter thought. The aspect of not being a good piece beside this beautiful, dark stranger. He must've scowled, he must've looked displeased, because the wide and ensured smile faltered for a split second, before growing wider.

The man's mouth moved, but Geonhak couldn't make out a word he said over the cheers of an encore. Was the club going to close soon? He felt as if they just got there. Had it been hours? Days, even, at the slow but rapid pace of the night?

Geonhak could turn around and walk away, dismiss this man like he was just another greasy hand in the mass of unnamed, uninteresting people.

"Huh?" He found himself calling- and repeating, louder- instead.

"I asked if I bothered you?" The man repeated, a question lilting his otherwise friendly and spoken tone. His head tilted a bit to the side, inquiring, wanting a response. Geonhak was a man that, if disturbed, he wouldn't even bother gracing the offender with one. He'd scoff, roll his eyes, and turn on his way. He hated how he found himself captivated by dayless eyes and a curling grin that only seemed to become more Cheshire by the second.

"Oh-" Geonhak cleared his throat, knowing his voice was too low to be heard by such a competitive bass, "Well-"

"You can be honest." The man supplied, less than helpful with the way his eyes raked over Geonhak like he was a piece of meat. It made him want to be less than honest, even if for a night. "We're all friends here."

"Not really." Geonhak said, quickly, and the stranger rose his eyebrows at that. "I mean- no one really knows each other. We're all just here."

"So you came alone?" The stranger looked more than happy with that, like a pleased cat when it was scratched under his chin. 

Geonhak shook his head, "I came with my two friends. One's probably crying into the wall and the other- well, I lost him somewhere in this crowd."

"Easy to lose people here." 

It was. It was like a black hole. Or maybe the entrance to Hell. Whichever came first.

"He's tiny, so..." Geonhak shrugged, "Makes it even easier. You can't even see him go about, using people like shields and curtains."

The stranger let out a surprised laugh. Geonhak would be offended if he didn't blame him; he could be a little dry, a little rusty around strangers. He was low spoken and miserable around unfamiliar faces, smaller than he'd like to admit, but he couldn't help it. Keonhee had once said that he was a bit scary when he didn't talk but just as scary when he did. He had to walk around eggshells until his scaredy cat of a friend agreed to actually be his friend and not some terrified acquaintance who felt faint every time he was confronted with Geonhak's company.

Something tells Geonhak this stranger got a similar impression. That must make him a little brave. That must mean he had a taste for danger. 

He chased the thrill, just like everyone else around them.

"Did you come alone?" Geonhak asked, deciding he didn't like the eerie smile and silence despite everything being too loud. Much too loud, ear shatteringly loud. This stranger didn't move. He could've, he could've fled back into the crowd. Geonhak could've turned around and found his way back to the safety of the bar, but he didn't. Neither of them did, too fascinated by the other.

"Yes." The stranger answered, far too happy about that.

"With intent?" Geonhak said, "You're alone with intent?"

"Who isn't?" The stranger's smile softened, no longer predatory and indicating, but more so out of pure curiosity, "Anyways- I can't really hear you over this. It's not a good place to have a conversation- could you use some fresh air?"

Geonhak, against his better judgement, could. He never realized this club had a outside area out back, but then again, he never assumed clubs did. It was empty, with the majority choosing to have an alcohol induced time inside. Geonhak decided he liked this area better than anything inside. The air was slightly cold in the way early morning was. Crisp and dewy and far too dark, making him regret not putting in his contacts, but he was a master at squinting and he was a bit glad the man's features were shadowed by the natural night. He didn't think he could handle seeing him up close when he was glaringly sober and not breathing in the loose, free spirited fumes drunk people gave off when they bumped into him, infecting him with their vibe.

He was outside on the balcony, looking into the stretch of small land behind the building, and he felt like this stranger was kissing on his neck and taking him home. He might as well be, with the solace of being the only two people looking into the world at night, shoulders brushing, quiet and alone. There was a sense of comfort in knowing he didn't have to be suffocated inside, but then he had to deal with the motive of this in the meantime. Geonhak knew he couldn't stare ahead forever, so he turned his face just slightly only to see the stranger already looking at him.

"What?" He gruffed out, minutely surprised.

"Just trying to guess what your name could be." He replied, his voice a bit too soft and wondering.

"Mh," Geonhak thought that was fair enough, "and what are your guesses right now?"

"My brain couldn't even come up with something that wasn't lame," He smiled, and Geonhak noticed he had many different shades of the same smile. This one was lazy, relaxed, and he then realized he wasn't intimidating to this man. Not in the way he first thought. 

"Oh."

"I'm Youngjo." The man- Youngjo- offered first, probably assuming Geonhak wasn't one to take first leaps. He'd be correct about that. Geonhak thought about tasting the name on his own tongue, but he figured that'd be cliche and disturbing. Youngjo smiled like he expected it, though, and Geonhak then wondered how many people made the same gesture, got the same smile. 

"Geonhak." He nodded his head, as if confirming that's indeed who it was.

Youngjo rose his eyebrows again, disappearing under his brains, but his eyes still glimmered. "You sure that's not a fake name?"

Geonhak shook his head. Youngjo laughed, and if he was holding a bottle in his hand, this is where he'd tilt his head and take a quick swish of it.

"A man of few words, are you?" Youngjo continued instead, giving a little sigh, "How old are you, Geonhak? I have to know what I'm working with."

"Ninety-seven." Geonhak paused, "July."

"Mm, yeah." Youngjo nodded, "I'm older than you by two years. So, you're required to call me hyung."

"Okay." And what was that. For a brief moment, that was that. 

Geonhak was kind of glad that Youngjo's intensity momentarily subsided. If not in his eyes, in the flow of conversation. Geonhak felt his tongue crack a little too dry, making him debate if wandering inside and asking for a water would be worth potentially losing this mystical stranger to the row of houses beyond. It's not like he cared much, but it's not everyday he met someone like Youngjo. He's seen lots of interesting people in his life. His friends being a few of them. There was something fascinating in the way Dongju dug his teeth into skin, in the way Keonhee clasped his hands gingerly around wildflowers to protect them from the harsh sun, in the way Seoho's eyes got a little misty as he went off on tangents about some new scientific fun fact he read on the Internet. He even found charm in the sharp contrast in Hwanwoong's expressions when he went from content and relaxed to losing himself in the beat of the music. 

Youngjo was nothing like them. It was less fascination and more allure with him.

He knew what he was doing. He spoke and moved with the eased confidence that came with pure knowledge; Geonhak wouldn't let himself forget that.

With no budge, Youngjo seemed to have enough of the quiet nothing, pushing off the creaky railing with a deep exhale.

"So, be real, why are you even here?" His tone was slightly accusatory, slightly something else. Geonhak gave him a startled look, which he only barreled through. "You don't fit in this crowd. I've seen lots of people who looked lost, but you..."

"Me?" Geonhak egged on, a bit confused at the sudden psychoanalyzing. He wasn't sure if he liked it. He wasn't sure if he hated it, either.

"Everyone looks a little lost when they come here. Some are stressed, depressed, and everything in between." Youngjo pursed his lips, shrugging his shoulders a bit, "You look like you have the golden ages of a high school varsity captain still wrapped around your finger."

Geonhak chuckled, nervously, "Oh."

" _Oh_." Youngjo mimicked, teasingly, "Is that all you know how to say?"

"I mean- is that what you think?" Geonhak rerouted himself, "I'm not sure what to say to that, s'all."

"You're closed off. See, one second you were here," Youngjo pressed two fingertips against the weathered wood, sliding them- gentle enough to not catch a splinter- a few scoots over to tap against Geonhak's elbow, where he rested currently, "now you're there. Your body instinctively moves away from me. You're conflicted about something, but whatever that is, it's warning you off against me."

Geonhak licked his lips, "Psych student?" 

Better to deflect than be forced to answer for his deepest concerns.

Youngjo smiled, "With a dash of music."

At least he'd give Geonhak that momentary freedom. 

"Mmh," Geonhak found himself more interested than he'd want to admit. Youngjo had that subtle urge about him- that hooked you in and held you up, desperately wanting more. Geonhak wasn't desperate quite yet, but he found himself clinging to the conversation a little too much. "I pity your future patients. You have the eyes of a manic."

"Oho?" Youngjo pushed back, palms digging into the railing, a humored smile gracing his face, "Are you saying I look crazy, Geonhak?"

Banter. He was looking for banter. Geonhak was well-equipped with this, he practiced with Seoho often enough to know what to say, how to act. The roll of light insults, half-hearted and not meaning anything, but he had time to get used to it. With Seoho, it was always push and pull. He didn't know Youngjo. He knew he was a pretty boy with questionable fashion choices and a hobby in music and profiling people. That's it. That's all Geonhak really needs to know.

"I'm saying you can't stare at people like that," He shot back, and maybe his brain was a bit more eager to work when he least expected it, "and I'm saying you're gonna bug people out if you do."

Youngjo smiled, knowingly, "Do I make you nervous?"

"That's- That's not what I meant-" Geonhak sputtered, and he would've closed more in on himself too, had Youngjo's hand not shot out to hold him firmly in place by his wrist.

"It's okay if I do," Youngjo continued, not missing a beat, "I have that effect on people."

"At least you're self aware." Geonhak chuckled, energy dying out as quickly as it came.

"Mmh." 

There was silence and Geonhak was convinced it would get boring fast. There was no way that Youngjo could be entertained with someone as soft-spoken as him. He didn't even drink, his cheeks were flushed with the chill and fluster, not with a good time. He was leaning away from all possible body heat and not giving into Youngjo's natural suave that didn't come with shitty pick-up lines, but instead flowing charisma. Geonhak was awkward and clammy and boring, and his cologne was wearing off quickly, and Youngjo smelt like the remnants of club-owned liquor despite having the clarity of a man who swore off of bitter, intoxicating liquid forever.

His worst suspicions came true when Youngjo pushed away, already turning smoothly in his step to head back inside.

"It was nice meeting you, Geonhak, but I feel like our time here has been used up. I'm going to go back inside, get myself a nice drink, and see if there's anything I can waste a bit more time on before heading out." Youngjo paused, looking over his shoulder- was that a bit hopefully? "Unless you'll let me buy you a drink, you know, like a good hyung."

Geonhak didn't think they were close enough for that. Not the honorifics, not the spending money. Nothing.

"I don't drink." He said, slowly, like he'd regret those words if he let them out. Sure enough, Youngjo scrunched his face in distaste.

"Oh, well, I should've guessed that, too." Youngjo said, giving a sheepish smile, "I'll keep that in mind."

Geonhak didn't think they were going to meet again.

"Okay."

Youngjo rose a hand, his farewell, and Geonhak nodded in return. It was a bit unsettling how he knew a handful of things about Youngjo, a face in a crowd he'll never see again, yet Youngjo knew nothing about him. 

He faced forward and overlooked the balcony once more. At least, with Dongju and Hwanwoong lost inside, he could find comfort in this place.

* * *

"Sounds kind of freaky," Keonhee said around a mouthful of instant ramen he probably shouldn't be eating at the check-in desk, "That guy, I mean."

Geonhak exhaled, throwing his damp towel over his shoulder. "You're telling me."

"This is why I don't like going to clubs. One time, an old guy touched my butt and I never went back." Keonhee shivered at the mere thought of it, giving an indignant noise when Geonhak shot him a glare. "What! I'm serious. This one could be a real stalker, too. If he talks like he's going to see you again, he'll definitely make sure he sees you again."

"Gee, thanks for the comfort." Geonhak said, dryly.

"Only looking out for you, man- hey!" Keonhee squeaked, almost dumping the boiling cup onto the front of his shirt when Geonhak stealthily whipped him with the towel as he bypassed him, heading into the small gym. Keonhee was more of a work friend than a friend friend- he was usually busy on the weekends with vocal teaching or something else. He had always told Geonhak that the key to a happy life is giving yourself no time to be sad about it. If that meant piling his schedule full until he barely had time to breathe, then so be it. Geonhak didn't think that it would help him much. His loneliness was chronic, constant, and nothing can be done about it. He's surrounded by people he loves on the daily and yet it didn't seem to make a difference.

"Maybe you should see a therapist," Seoho had told him on one of his more blue nights. The curtains were parted, just slightly, letting the moonlight shine on Seoho's still-smiling face. He never _not_ smiled, especially when someone was upset. A crunched, moony smile from him could make anyone return it no matter how crushed they are. Geonhak already felt the corners of his mouth upturning, against his will. It was Seoho's evil little party trick, but he couldn't say he hated it, especially when the flood of happiness was worth whatever desolation lived in his chest at the moment. "I mean this out of the good of my heart, not belittling, or-"

"I know," Geonhak had cut him off, knowingly, because he knew Seoho. As much as they went at each other's throats, he knew Seoho only wanted the best for him in the end, like a good hyung. "I know. I don't-"

"I'm not asking you to make a decision now or get lost in your own head." Seoho knew him well, too well, sometimes, "Just think about it when you're in a better space. I don't like seeing you sad."

"You should take advantage of it like Dongju does," Geonhak would say, thickly, and sniff to try to take the tension off of him. His blanket was too hot and his bed too stiff. Maybe he should try sleeping on the couch. "Get your sad cuddles or something."

Seoho's smile would always pull a bit wiry, though a tinged relieved at the same time, "No, thanks."

"You always say no." Geonhak would point out, like he wouldn't try to wrangle Seoho in some makeshift headlock if he even tried, sad or not. Seoho's expression would flicker, agreeing silently, and Geonhak would feel a bit better about his situation.

Sometimes he wished he was able to drown it out like Keonhee did, in the way he did it. Most days Geonhak felt like a big baby with how easily frustrated he got. If he couldn't do something how he wanted to do it, then any chance of even attempting it was lost and thrown away. Not that he didn't eventually go back to it, because Geonhak was persistent and driven as a person, but the flare of rage was inevitable. He never got frustrated at work- not to that extent, at least, and if he did it came in the form of a nagging burn on the back of his neck- and so Keonhee never really saw him get angry. He hated the smell of the locker rooms so he never ventured deeper than the hallway leading to them, so if Geonhak had to hit his head against the metal a few times to get out all the bad emotions, Keonhee was never an unfortunate witness.

"So, what's the guy like?" Keonhee asked, leaning on the doorway during Geonhak's break, watching in muted interest as the older man pumped dumbbells like it was him against the world, "Besides being pretty and a bit cryptic."

_Psych Major. Dabbles in music, apparently._

"Did you at least get his SoundCloud?" Keonhee asked around a bite of an apple, looking like it was stupid of Geonhak to look at him, incredulously. "Whaaat? People like him, who go to clubs like that and claim to make music, _always_ have a SoundCloud."

"I don't know his full name," Geonhak countered, "or what his username might even be. All I know his first name is Youngjo-"

_Could be a fake name._ Geonhak thought, bitterly, recalling how Youngjo had assumed that Geonhak's name was not his own. Maybe it was because he was reserved, closed off. Maybe it was because he was accustomed to giving out fake ones himself and thought it would be fair. People who were together at the wrong time. Code names whispered into the twilight, not to be met again. That was a bit disappointing. Geonhak was used to seeing people he might never see again. Clients who deem him too hard-hitting and quit before their two week trial is up. People he makes small but pleasant talk with in the line of the grocery store or library. Geonhak wasn't someone who was too sociable, anyways. Keonhee was shy, but he had a ton of friends. Hwanwoong seemed to know _everyone_ , but it was exaggerated, according to Dongju. His roommates were those who were like him, comfortable with a small crowd, so there was never stress in hanging out with people they didn't know well enough to be comfortable with. So, it was weird that after one encounter on an off night, Geonhak found himself thinking about Youngjo, who he was certain he'll never see again.

When he voiced this to Keonhee, the silver-haired man only hummed thoughtfully, tapping a long finger on his apple. Did everyone have strangely colored hair these days? To stick out from the crowd, to be more present? To not be mundane, to not blend in to be someone faceless?

Youngjo looked like any guy on the street. A handsome campus heartthrob, maybe, but no one too spectacular. There was something miraculous in the way his skinny jeans hugged his killer thighs or the gentle curve of his mouth. He was pretty, but nothing special when put in the general street mob of Seoul. Neither was Geonhak, for that matter, but he supposed that's what probably caught Youngjo's interest.

Maybe Geonhak was just a stone to pry at, but when he didn't crack, Youngjo dropped the tools and moved on. 

"I can hear your thoughts from over here," Keonhee had said, "I didn't think you were the dating type, hyung."

"I'm not." Geonhak was quick to assure, because it was the truth. Too much vulnerability. Too much everything. He wasn't packed like Keonhee, who had to weasel in dates when he felt like it. He just wasn't eager to share his heart with someone who might be too playful with it, breaking it carelessly. There were a lot of people like that, especially those around his age, who felt like fun and partying was all there was to life. Geonhak didn't judge, tried not to, but it was hard when he was apparently a magnet for those kinds of people. Seoho used to joke that it was the kind eyes and refreshing smile. Dongju said that Geonhak was too handsome for his own good- and people liked to take advantage of the fact he was a little pretty and a little more than dumb. He wasn't sure which explanation he preferred more when either one gave him a headache.

"Hm," Keonhee hummed, "Yeah, I thought it'd be weird if you'd want to date this guy. I wouldn't-"

"We all have different types, Keonhee."

"-it's not about that!" Keonhee narrowed his eyes, comically playful, at Geonhak's slight miff, "It's about falling for the emo club types. Those are the kind that would pull you off to a dirty bathroom to get you off, promise to write a song about you while you're still in a daze, and next thing you know your experience is written in the great history of SoundCloud, with a grunge aesthetic covering the track, and-"

"Careful with how much you expose of your own experience," Geonhak teased, dropping the dumbbell back to the mat. He flexed his hand, the fingerless glove he wore for grip support tugging close on his palm, "Your own dating life is starting to sound a bit wild."

"I'm just _saying_!" Keonhee whined, moving like he was going to punch Geonhak's shoulder in retaliation, but decided against it when he saw how damp his shirt was. He didn't like sweaty bodies or wet shirts. It was a miracle on how Keonhee even worked here in the first place, but he had said he looked forward to his shifts with Geonhak and that's what made it more bearable. Geonhak had accepted this, because he could imagine his lunch break being more gray without Keonhee to breathe down his neck, despite not wanting to touch the work-out area with a ten foot pole.

"I'm just saying be careful," Keonhee repeated, shaking out his slim hand, "if you're not, you're going to get yourself in something you were trying to avoid."

The thing was, Geonhak knew that. 

Yet when he got home from work, tired and achey and badly wanting a shower, Dongju met him with the same sharkish grin.

It was Friday night and Friday commanded fun.

* * *

Geonhak has been staring at the drink sitting in front of him for ten minutes now.

It was a bit ridiculous on how he was easily convinced out of the house. He was tired, he wanted to nap and maybe make himself a good meal- one that Seoho offered to share, that squirrel, and Geonhak was happy to do that. But Dongju had sized him up with a tighter shirt than last time and claimed that the _Balcony Beauty_ might be there again. It was a bit silly and against his own principles, but he went and now he was staring at a glass that Hwanwoong had slid his way and claimed he looked like he _needed_. 

Geonhak had never needed alcohol to have fun a day in his life. He wasn't going to betray his sensitive taste buds and start now.

"Are you going to drink that?" A voice asks him. Geonhak doesn't register it at first, but his body does, with the way that his heart sparked in interest, butterflies coiling in his gut. _Butterflies? What was he, twelve?_

Geonhak looked over his shoulder, almost bumping faces with none other than Youngjo. He let out a surprised noise, which had Youngjo chuckling as he moved back. The sheet of warmth had lifted, making Geonhak almost feel small and vulnerable, open to attack. His gaze didn't stray, keeping on Youngjo as he decided to occupy the chair beside him. Not many people sat at the bar. They frequented for a new buzz, but they were always thrown back onto the floor. He knew that their drinks carried, mainly because Dongju would complain about slipping and getting his hands unpleasantly sticky with spilled liquid. There should be some policy about that. 

Geonhak watched as Youngjo slid the drink from him when he didn't answer, stare into it, then slide it along to some drunk girl making out with a girl half her size. She lifted it in cheers, but Geonhak was focused on Youngjo, who turned to face him with a funny little grin.

"You weren't going to drink that." He said, like he knew. Like he knew Geonhak.

"How do you know?" He asked, a bit defiantly, because he was never one to let go that easily.

"You were sober last time. Not a drop touched." Youngjo replied, proudly, and Geonhak huffed at how obvious it was, "Usually, when first-timers come around all nervous, they like a little buzz to get them through their nerves."

"I don't like drinking," Wow, Deja Vu, "I don't need it. I never have when I'm having fun."

"You're having fun sitting here by yourself?" Youngjo rose an eyebrow. He didn't believe him, that much was obvious.

"Lone company is not bad company. Sitting out doesn't make me bored." Geonhak replied, a bit tense, since he was tired of being looked at like he was the odd one out for not losing himself to the music like a mindless puppet. He did not dance to the same tune. He moved to a different melody, one unlike theirs, one astray. 

"Last week you looked like you wanted to dance." Youngjo smiled, sneakily, "Do you?"

Geonhak shook his head, drawing his hands to his chest. "I don't dance like this. My style is more..." He spared a glance to the crowd, "Organized?"

"Professional?" Youngjo guessed.

"Professionally trained." Geonhak corrected. 

Youngjo hummed, considering this. Geonhak could get lost in the polished surface of the counter or stare at the bottles lined up, packed like sardines, on the shelves behind the busy bartender. The lights lit them up, making the drink inside glimmer and shine. Before Geonhak could become memorized by the timeless energy this club brought him, Youngjo had made up his mind, hooking a hold around Geonhak's wrist much like Hwanwoong did before. Geonhak wasn't even sure where he scurried off to tonight. All he knew was that he was being brought back to the dance floor by a dark mystery who was always sharing smiles, each one with a different intention than the last.

Youngjo wasn't the best dancer. He was decent, knew what sensuality looked like on him, but he was by no means experienced or interested in finding a proper move. 

He'd tilt his head back eyes fluttering closed, and Geonhak was able to make out a lot about Youngjo then. The way smoky shadow looks _fucking amazing_ on him, or the way his lips looked a bit too read, or the trail of his hand down the long, pale column of his neck. Tonight, there was no bucket hat, just messy hair sticking to his cheeks and making him look a bit rustled, but in the best way. Youngjo had to be a siren, luring unsuspecting men and women alike to their deaths. Geonhak's sure he's broken his fair share of hearts; he didn't appear eager to share his, but being entranced couldn't be helped. Youngjo knew how to present himself and he did it with hidden motive.

His head rolled back to look at Geonhak heavily under eyelashes, his grin curling. Knowing.

"You haven't danced once since we got out here," Youngjo pointed out, but his hands wandered, gripping at Geonhak's hips briefly before moving up his arms. It was the casual 'feel up' move many people had done once before, but Youngjo made it seem purposeful, "Why aren't you?"

Geonhak didn't answer. He stared, realizing just how leveled they are in height, but he still stared straight ahead like he could pull the answers to questions he had right out of Youngjo's gaze alone. Nothing was given, but so much was taken.

Youngjo smiled, that fool.

"I think you're getting tired of me asking questions I already know the answers to, mh?" He threw Geonhak's arm around his shoulder, sliding closer until he had properly slotted himself up against the younger male. There was barely any breathing space between them, barely any space to collect his thoughts. Geonhak's face burst hot, his throat tight. He regretted wearing the jacket Dongju had forced him into, no matter how cold it was outside, no matter how stylish it looked on him.

"And what's that?" Geonhak asked, mind a daze, uncaring if his voice was too low to be comprehended in his bashfulness. "That you know?"

Youngjo smiled, and this smile was clearer than all the others. Geonhak could read what he wanted, clear as day.

"I think you want to kiss me," Youngjo said, "Don't you?"

Geonhak would be a liar if he said no.

So, he let Youngjo grasp him by the chin, gently, leading him in for a full kiss. It wasn't shy, wasn't chaste, just a messy, full on kiss. Youngjo was a good kisser- kissed like he meant it, like he couldn't let go, and Geonhak was a bit slow in catching up. His mind wasn't the fastest, but he could grope at Youngjo's lower back for purchase and he could taste the faint trace of cherry. He could think that _wow, maybe he likes this_ and that was a bit too dangerous. He couldn't care, when Youngjo was breathing him in, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling back with a _pop_ that must've been satisfying to only him.

Geonhak was trying to look at him with eyes that weren't cross-eyed when he squeezed his hips. It felt like a farewell, but Geonhak couldn't question it when Youngjo smiled. This one more masked than the one before. 

"Our time is up, doll." Youngjo said, pulling back completely, and Geonhak longed to reach for him. "It's been fun. I hope you think so, too."

Then he was gone.

The mass of moving bodies swallowed him up and he was gone. Just like Hwanwoong was, just like Dongju, leaving Geonhak standing in a haze much like he did the last Friday he was there.

He was starting to think Youngjo, like most people, wasn't permanent. 

* * *

"Do you guys know a Youngjo?" Geonhak had asked over dinner with his friends. The days had crawled on, leaving it _maybe_ at a Monday before he was able to cave into his curiosities, looking at the group with wide eyes. Seoho was squished next to him, despite his minutely complaints, and happily chewing away at beef he had stole from Geonhak's plate. He seemed a bit crestfallen that Geonhak hadn't gotten on his case about it, since his bites were small and mopey. Geonhak should've humored him- Seoho had a rough day at work, after all- but he couldn't beat down the need to know more about the man who had kissed him in a dingy club on Friday. He normally wouldn't _ever_ let that happen, and God forbid his friends find out. They wouldn't let him live it down.

Dongju's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall all of five people he knows, before shaking his head. "Doesn't ring a bell."

Seoho looked more contemplative, his features lighting up with realization, then dimming once again as he closed in on himself. Geonhak watched this all play out, shaking his head in quiet endearment. He would never understand Seoho, but that didn't mean watching him was any less fun. 

"...Yeah!" Hwanwoong brightened up, snapping his fingers, realization dawning on his face, "Yeah, I do! Kim Youngjo?"

Geonhak gave a little shrug and a shake of the head. He didn't know his last name.

"Well, there's this guy from the music department named Kim Youngjo. He sometimes produces tracks for my dance team for showcases. Super friendly, super flirty. Seemingly knows everyone and everyone loves him." Hwanwoong stirred his straw, "I like his songs, but I've never really saw him. Everyone just has good feelings about him."

"Oh." Well, shouldn't that be good news? Shouldn't that be assuring?

"Maybe if you went back to Uni, you'd be able know what and who we're talking about for once." Dongju snipped, as snarky as ever.

"I majored in Early Childhood Education," Geonhak pointed out, "I wouldn't have been near you guys, anyways-"

"Whatever," Dongju flicked his wrist dismissively. Geonhak frowned. "Why are you so into this guy anyways? Where did you even meet him?"

"Oh, don't tell me Geonhakie has a cruuuush?" Seoho teased, although it fell flat. Geonhak scoffed and nudged his side, trying to cheer him up from his bad day.

"I wouldn't call it that," He tried his best to disarm the situation. Once the younger two got something in their minds, it stuck, and this was not something he wanted to debate over. "I don't know enough people to be remotely interested in them."

"But you're interested in this Youngjo," Dongju said, "It's already unlike you."

"Very much so." Seoho agreed, glancing to him out of the corner of his eyes, but never facing him completely.

"It's just...I've seen him at the same club. Twice in two weeks. Either he visits regularly or-"

"Or it's fate." Hwanwoong grinned, evidently meaning to tease, but it fell a little short. 

Geonhak crinkled his nose, "No, I don't believe in stuff like that. It was just a coincidence."

"Coincidence can be a bit _too_ funny, don't you think?" Dongju asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"You don't believe in it either," Geonhak said, lowly, watching Dongju wearily. He watched as a smile bloomed across the younger male's face, seemingly finding joy in teasing him.

"Not with me, but with you-" Dongju tried again, but Geonhak scoffed, stabbing at the beef on his plate with chopsticks.

"It's not fate. Nothing about this is." Geonhak sighed, "He's just a face in the crowd. Seriously, if you saw him in a crowd, he's just another face. Nothing remarkable or special about him."

"Maybe not to us, but to you?" Seoho guessed, reaching for his drink with a grimace, "It seems like he is special."

Geonhak scoffed, turning to watch the city life shuffle outside the restaurant window.

He hated how right he was becoming.

* * *

The next time Geonhak saw Youngjo, he was hovering closer to the dance floor this time around. He turned his face, watching intently as Youngjo manuevered his way through the crowd. Effortlessly, familiarly. Like a magnet, Youngjo's gaze was drawn to him, finding him in the darkened corner. With cheekbones flushed with magenta and electric blue, Geonhak realized Youngjo was a little more than pretty. He also realizes he's seen that smile before- flashed over his shoulder to every awaiting stranger, or given around the peek of his ridged glass. There was something more intense about being at the receiving end of Youngjo's perceptive stare, making him want to shift and jump out of his skin, until Youngjo perked up with his own notice. 

"What's the point of standing around if you're not having fun? At least live a little- might as well before you're dead, anyways." Youngjo said as soon as he met him, his voice clearer than the lyrics and more sharper, too. "You're always waiting around, never giving in."

"Maybe I was waiting for you to find me." Geonhak said, boldly, and Youngjo's smile jumped at the coy response.

"Always will." He confirmed, fingers drifting to hold onto Geonhak's wrists, "Let's go dance?"

But they didn't go to dance.

Geonhak found himself pressing Youngjo against a wall of some dimly lit hallway, probably leaving to the bathrooms, and he felt like a goddamn stereotype. He could feel Youngjo's hands in his hair, twisting and tugging him impossibly closer. Geonhak had his mouth open, pressed against Youngjo's throat, leaving hot kisses in his wake. Even with Youngjo borderline purring above him in satisfaction, there was this bug in his chest that alerted him that this didn't feel right. He felt like he was mapping territory that would never be his. Never could be his. Youngjo was a free spirit, lost under the vibrant lights and heavy bass, never to be chained down. Geonhak wasn't a man of open fun, but he sure felt like he was changing every Friday. His infatuation with the mystery Youngjo had made of himself was turning him into someone unrecognizable, someone he wasn't.

He pulled away from Youngjo like he was burning. His skin felt like it was scorching.

"Mmh, is something the matter?" Youngjo asked, leveled and calm, like he wasn't surprised, "Is something wrong?"

"I-" Geonhak wasn't sure what he wanted to ask. _Are you going to stay? Are you going to stick around?_ That's be weird. That'd be strange. That was not a necessity, nor his place to.

"I don't even know your last name." He settled on, "I know nothing about you."

"Well, this is a club." Youngjo breathed, eyes still a little hazy, "No one knows anything of anyone. You don't need to."

"But you keep coming back," Geonhak pointed out, "Every time, you keep coming back."

"Yeah, well," Youngjo exhaled, "I don't know your last name either."

Geonhak swallowed thickly, "Kim."

"Mmh," Youngjo sighed, again, straightening up, "I figured it'd be common."

This confused Geonhak, "Why...?"

"The truth is," Youngjo wiped at his neck, like he was trying to erase all forms of Geonhak from his skin. That's how it looked and felt, at least. "You're not that noticeable. You don't stick out. You only do here, where it's not your scene. You're not like them. You're quiet, you're awkward. If I first saw you in a book store, I wouldn't pay you any other mind, because you'd be some other closed-off geek who spends his Friday nights in and not losing his mind to some trashy pop song that's taken the radio over."

His throat felt tight, constricting. Geonhak felt like he couldn't breathe.

"So...?"

"So, I'm saying, you haven't been noticing what I'm trying to do." Youngjo sounded still as put together as ever even when Geonhak felt like he was falling apart in confusion, "Not surprised, though. You seem ever the hopeless romantic." 

Geonhak stared at him in an effort to pick him apart. Youngjo was always so guarded, so cryptic, and even now he couldn't figure out what exactly he was trying to show him. What exactly he was trying to do. 

Youngjo stepped forward, clapping him on the shoulder like he was praising him for some sport won.

"Let it go," He said, "and have fun."

Geonhak watched him saunter back to the crowd. Watched the crowd swallow him up like he belonged there. Felt like a squashed cigarette under Youngjo's crushing heel all at once.

This whiplash will be the death of him.

* * *

"And just like that, it was over?" Seoho asked, hands messy and carding through Geonhak's hair as he attempted to feel out his drying hair. His scalp still burned from the bleach, but in the mirror, at least it looked _good_. Soft platinum hair falling in his eyes, a little long but just how he liked it. He felt good, new, and not like the same old needle in the haystack. 

"Mhm," Geonhak hummed, "I can't stop thinking about it. He spoke like he was trying to teach me something."

"Odd way to do it. I don't even think he's a certified teacher." Seoho grumbled in typical Seoho fashion. Geonhak snorted lightly at this, staring at his own reflection. He had been working out more, lately, as if he needed to. His arms felt stronger, shoulders more capable, and chest more firm. He no longer felt like the boring book kid, more put together and stand-offish. More button-ups with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, more form-fitting pants, and more everything to draw attention to himself. He didn't shy in at compliments- or, at least, tried not to. He was trying to become more confident in himself, find his own image. It was difficult, but he was trying. He really did dig the blonde, though. It fit him well, in ways that his natural hair didn't.

"You're going to be fried if you keep doing this," Seoho sighed, "Remember to listen to Hwanwoong's advice when it comes to which hair products to keep your hair healthy-"

"Yeah, yeah." Geonhak cut him off, pushing a hand through his bangs, "You like it?"

"Mmm..." Seoho trailed off, squinting slightly in thought, "Yeah, I think it fits you."

"Good," Geonhak turned to feel around for his clothes that he had folded off somewhere, "Me, too. I like it too."

"...What are you trying to do?" Seoho asked after a moment, a bit hesitatingly, but with a tone he only used when Geonhak was seriously upset. Not slightly miffed, not annoyed, but genuinely down. There was no snark to it, no rhyme to rhythm, just Seoho in his own concern. Geonhak's eyebrows furrowed. Did he seem upset? He was fine. He felt fine. Looking to Seoho, he saw a face filled with pity. Was he pitiful? He felt better than ever. Better than he ever had been, actually.

"What do you mean?" Geonhak asked, even though he figured he wouldn't get a straight answer. Seoho was, if not, the biggest enigma in his life. His brain worked in ways Geonhak would never truly understand in a lifetime. 

"I mean, what's so special about him?" Seoho grumbled, picking at his fingernails, "Seriously. He's just some prestigious know-it-all in a club, the kind who takes advantage of emotionally available people like you-"

"Hey." Geonhak interrupted, frowning.

"No, I'm serious. He knows what he's doing. I just- ugh." Seoho's shoulders rose and fell in frustrated, "He probably wants you to be someone you're not before he goes all in."

This unsettled Geonhak, but in a way, he wondered if Seoho was right. Then again, he didn't see Youngjo. He didn't see the sincerity amongst all else, how nice he was, how he cut it off when he noticed it reaching waters he couldn't deal with. Seoho didn't see. Seoho didn't know.

"What's your point?" He asked, before Seoho could spew all else about the Youngjo he didn't know.

"My point is...why couldn't you like someone who actually loved you for _you_ and not who they wanted you to be?" Seoho shifted, a bit nervously, and Geonhak couldn't imagine why. Until he met his gaze in the reflection and saw the emotions in Seoho's eyes. Seoho was always confusing to read, but this time... _this_ time. 

Seoho's hands fell to Geonhak's shoulders and squeeze. He understood then.

Wetting his lips, he wasn't sure what to say or even where to start. He didn't know how to feel or how to go about this. Glancing up at Seoho, he watched him carefully, and decided that the simple route is the perfect way to go for now.

"Do you want to come to the club with me for once?" Geonhak asked, "You seem to be in a good mood."

Taking the change in topic in stride, and apparently in a decently good light, Seoho brightened up a bit. "I've never been clubbing before."

"Neither have I," Geonhak reminded, "Not until Dongju dragged me out."

"Mmh," Seoho relented, wearing at the edges, "Only on one condition, though..."

Geonhak quirked an eyebrow, "What's that?"

* * *

...And that's how Geonhak found himself at the club, dressed in his favorite sweater with holes poking through the shoulders and chest, exposing bits of honey tan skin. He knew it was falling apart at the threads, but wearing outside of the comfort of his apartment was oddly empowering. A lot about his new look was oddly empowering. He was garnering more attention, more heavy gazes, but all he focused on was the way a slightly tipsy Seoho hung off his arm and trying to prevent Dongju from tearing Hwanwoong's shoulder open with his teeth.

"That's enough, that's- enough-" Geonhak broke off into a giddy laugh, for once enjoying himself at a club. He was not scouring, not searching, just enjoying himself in the moment. Every Friday felt like an escalate from the last until it wasn't, but now for once, he felt like he could bob his head to the music. Seoho's breath was warm on his neck and he was getting oddly clingy- unlike him, but it was new. Everything was so new, like a start that Geonhak hadn't given himself the chance to experience in ages.

"I'm still not drinking," Geonhak huffed when Dongju tried sliding a glass to him, "Is it weird to say that I feel drunk, anyways?"

"That's lame," Hwanwoong countered, too loud even though the music wasn't deafening for once, "but you're lame, so."

"Shut up! Don't be mean to Geonhakie!" Seoho swatted at him, more nicer in his intoxicated haze, and Geonhak had to hold him back from the waist so he didn't sloppily maul Hwanwoong. He settled him down, laughing at everything, and feeling alive. He felt like he'd go home in a daze, but sparked alive.

The magnetic pull urged again. Geonhak instinctively turned his head to the crowd of people, seeing Youngjo's gaze at just the shy end of it. He was pressed against some tall, nerdy looking guy who Geonhak recognized as Yonghoon. Dongju's twin's friend, who sang in their band, who was just as daintily pretty and geeky as the next guy. Geonhak was surprised to see him there, honestly, but then again...he was surprised to find himself there before.

Geonhak understood then that he'd never truly find Youngjo's intentions. That he might not even understand Youngjo, that he might not ever see him again. His gaze was overbearing, tearing, prying. 

Geonhak found that he didn't care.

Youngjo pressed a hand against the nape of Yonghoon's neck, drawing him closer. Geonhak watched, for a split second, before turning his attention back to his friends. 

"What if we- what if we got on the dance floor and _danced_?" Seoho suggested, tongue tied.

"That's what's the dance floor is for." Geonhak chuckled, "Okay, let's go then- but try to keep up."

He let himself get lead to the dance floor once more. He let himself get squashed by the bodies around him, as long as Seoho was whooping and hollering brokenly to the song. He swayed slightly, trying to find some beat. Spun Seoho, spun himself, and in the blurry cyclone, caught Youngjo's gaze once more. Time didn't stop like before, Geonhak no longer felt hooked, but he indulged one last time.

Youngjo winked, his grin cutting and satisfied.

Geonhak felt, in some strange way, he understood then.

Turning back to Seoho in the form of the same old him turned anew, Geonhak smiled wider and lost himself to the beat.


End file.
